


Dissatisfaction and Other Factors That Make You Want to Dance

by billspilledquill



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton: The National Disaster, Angelica and Laurens are the group member in the club 'I fall in love with Alexander Hamilton', Angelica is the captain, F/M, Gen, M/M, Platonic Angelica / Laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billspilledquill/pseuds/billspilledquill
Summary: Angelica and Laurens meet on Hamilton's wedding.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing about Hiraeth but then my mind just stopped and tell me to write this and here we are. I have want to write this for a long time actually but I was too lazy aaaaa AAAA XKMSKS

He did imagine himself in the suit. (He imagined himself dancing, feet swirling in the wind, maybe stumbling on his feet, but he was going to catch him—

He imagine being hold by the clouds, the man in front of him, but couldn't quite see his features, he lied.)

 _Dancing_. He told himself. Kissing when he was giving round and round and round of dance he couldn't catch, music and melody he lost, he lost, he lost in the man's lips, he will be lost, he _already_ lost.

Because he can contoured his every parcel of skin, he can painted his eyes but not quite, vivid but never as bright as the man himself, he can doted his freckles, one by one— _they were one behind his ear, he saw them once the man was curling his hair backward, taking it as a ponytail_ — but not as pale and warm when he learned to touch them.

He can remember Alexander Hamilton's eyes. He can remember his name, he will remember his letters, he can traced his hair, red and brown and the red again— _like the flaming flowers of his paintings_ — he can kiss him now, wanting and willing and Hamilton wouldn't pull back.

But he lost, so he just imagined dancing. Dancing while watching the floor crumbled into pieces, and altogether he hoped he could kill the floor. Because it was too much, the floor was not easy to stand, the view was not easy to watch, their—

Hands were linked. And Hamilton was smiling.

The moment he smiled, Laurens knew he would lose.

He would give, give and _pull_ , he would pull and _drag_ his heart to him, he would kill and bring and _die_ and without a doubt gave all his being to the sky if the sky would smile like this. But it wouldn't, and Hamilton was there, smiling, and Laurens wished to the sky that this man would stop destroying him without crooked trigger and cracked tears.

It would be so much better if Alexander Hamilton just died on this hurricane, the man said to himself once. Laurens didn't agree, but his feet suggest otherwise. Dancing like he lost, dancing like he did lost, dancing like he _already_ lost.

Losing someone whom he never possess was a stupid thought.

The woman next to here was a lovely one, he wished he could say they were unfit, unwanted, unworthy, _unworkable_ — but it was prefect. Perfection would failed to be prefect if it stood beside the couple, it would know it lose already. _Everyone_ lose when Alexander Hamilton was around.

The ballroom was shining, the ground was cracking, Laurens just wanted to dance. His feet stepped out without his consent and

Alexander Hamilton was smiling when Laurens stopped in front of him.

Please dance with  
Me

Alexander.

"Alexander." He laughed with delight or disbelief or disappointment or disrespect or disunity, he didn't know, he didn't know how to dance either. "Congratulations! The tom-cat is finally saving his ass by such a lovely lady, lucky you!"

 _Why_ you wouldn't  
Dance with me

Alexander.

"Hey!" Hamilton flushed, _mine_. He pulled the girl closer. _Mine_. She laughed along, and Hamilton just shoved him slightly on the stomach. His skin burned with the thought of _mine_. _All this should be mine, how can you take away what was mine mine and mine—_

Please please please can we dance  
Tonight

Alexander?

"John!" He finally broke into a giggle, as if he couldn't hold it for much longer, and Laurens wondered if the sky would laugh like itself was breaking in the sunlight, like the moon would be ashamed to came out, because the sound would be too loud, too obnoxious, too beautiful to be seen, so it covered with shadow and _mine_ —

"But yeah, I receive kindly your congratulations, John." Hamilton's eyes sparkled with stars and Laurens thought that maybe the sky can't even took that much stars in a single space— "Eliza is the best woman and best of wives, I swear! So envy me for having a such wonderful wife, John!" He huffed proudly and have this adorable sound who was really, _incredibly_ annoying—

I envy, I lost, and I kept los  
Losing every single y

Alexander.

His wife looked at him— wife, not yet, because Alexander Hamilton was the groom and Eliza Schuyler was the bride, not yet not yet _what should be mine—_ and gave a shy smile. "Please don't listen to this prick, dear John, he's sometimes too abrasive."

Did you know him  
Did you know his story did you know his origins did you know where his freckles were situated did you know his words were scrapped from every book he had read did you know when he cried he was so silent that he might be dead did you know  
Everything

Everything as  
I _do_

Alexander.

(He realized she will soon know it, because they were in the ballroom, in a marriage, in the marriage of Alexander Hamilton and the other name on the invitation was not him. It was not

 _Mine_.)

He thought of living this place and dance until his feet were holes that shouldn't be fit it, shouldn't be held on the ground, because the earth was already collapsing on his feet, but he wouldn't dare for the sake of this night that his face can't

Dance.

Then Hamilton just looked at her as if the whole world surrounded around her, he watched the same look himself once held to look at him but Alexander Hamilton never noticed, wouldn't notice, can't notice because of work, because of death, because of —

Abrasive obliviousness. 

"Yeah, and you are probably struck with me for the whole life." He kissed her, and Eliza's cheeks were red—not the same pink like Hamilton, not the same color as Hamilton, nothing like _mine_ , nothing like Hamilton.

Alexander Hamilton would never back a fight, he wouldn't let anyone verbally assault him or his friends, he wouldn't kiss the one who just insult him right in the face _what did she do to take away what was mine and mine and mine again and again_ please  
Please don't take him away  
_Please_

(But then he remembered again that it was not an insult and that Alexander Hamilton was married, will be married, should be married right and right then

His feet didn't remember.)

His bride eyed at him shyly, embarrassed by Hamilton's sudden gesture, and Laurens smiled, because _hey it's okay, I don't mind, my eyes can't see anyway, the light was too bright._

The excuse was too lame to be true so he back it down at the tip of his tongue, and waved them goodbye with a miserable way that a gentleman would probably do. He was not a gentleman, he was a soldier. And he shouldn't back down for what was supposedly his.

But it's Alexander Hamilton, so he let it be and danced on the floor, waiting for a moment of silence and honor and want to slip by, to let it be to let that be to let everything go and let it be hers, let it _be_ —

The horrible fact that Hamilton can't dance was more of a stab in the chest but not quite. He can't really feel anything but the rhythm of his feet or music and tried not to think about the warmth of Alexander Hamilton in his arms, the kiss would be soft and maybe he would earned a moan from the man—

He tired to convince himself that all of this will not happen was because Hamilton can't dance.

"That's what I am talking about!" When he spotted Hamilton soon sister-in-law—still and Laurens selfishly hoped _never_ — he was thinking

_So this is it._

Her hollowed eyes widened when Laurens yelled out, loud and proud that he was not the only victim of this ball, he was not only one of this dance, _he can't dance_ — "Now, everyone give it up, for the maid of honor!"

Laurens felt guilt when he saw her tears of laughter, because _mine too_ , because he knew that something can be mine _twice_ — _what was her name again?_

Alexander Hamilton made them all lost. He had once lost it all  
But he can't  
_Dance_

So he won everything by a smile and they had already all _los_  
Losing.

"Angelica Schuyler!"

 

 

 

She loved this evening. She loved dancing on the ground, dining with others, chatting about nonsense, putting her head on his sisters, wanting

 _Wanting_.

"A toast to the groom!"

Hamilton looked over— _over was never enough, when it will be enough, nothing will be enough she needed things that can't be possess, wind can't possess, moon can't possess, Eliza couldn't have a gasp of it_ —

Birth, death and Alexander Hamilton were one of these things she will be satisfied with, because they can't be mixed, can't be possessed, can't own like a person can't own like an object, can't be satisfied but Eliza will and this was the importance. This was the point. This was the only thing that mattered.

And she hoped she can control this.

"To the bride!"

Eliza looked fantastic, eyes full of happiness, full of tears, full of emotions, full of beauty and Angelica will not exchange this moment for anything or everything.

(The thought of her kissing Alexander Hamilton was a tempting one, but it's not  
Not  
Everything was necessary  
To cut this tie that happened for three minutes.)

"May you be flowed in happiness and dear sheer enthusiasm, dearest," her voice softened and it refused to crack— please please set me on fire then my voice can die in flames so that Alexander Hamilton will not look at her with eyes, eyes and she hated his eyes — "may you always be satisfied, drowned in the beautiful creature of fullness."

She talked for more but didn't know what she said, she looked at Hamilton for the whole night but didn't know what to look else, she said his eyes were hateful but it's full of blue and laughter and it made her hated

Hated  
Please  
Let me hate

Let me hate  
The sensation of satisfaction.

She turned her face other than the couple, kissing and reciting the passage of the Bible to promise their truthful love for each other— and it's true, she hoped it's true please let it be true and never let her see the crack she can let herself be filled in because Eliza was so happy, her eyes were born to shine.

The spotlight was always her, and _she_ ran away from it.

She saw the man who shout her name and his eyes were knowledgeable. They weren't flirty, they weren't amorous, they weren't coquettish, they weren't coy, they weren't dallying, they were _knowing_. Angelica would hoped to escaped to another heartbreak of another person by the same phenomenon.

She wanted to shrug, but her feet were sore. _Losers_.

She laughed and moved to him. The man had an empty stool beside him, she supposed it was for her all along. She chuckled warmly and tapped his shoulder like an older sister. She was used to it, after all. Angelica did a polite gesture of greeting and sat down.

 _Isn't it funny?_ She wanted to say. _Isn't funny to love and to break at almost the same time but all we can do is sit there watching them replay a happily ever after?_ But it wasn't funny, so she let her feet rested a bit before speaking.

"Seem we are struck in the 'we are in love with Alexander Hamilton' group, sir." She laughed with no small of bitterness, but the man flinched with all his cores so her eyes smoothed down it down. "I hope this little prig will give us an explanation later, as the captain of this group."

Alexander Hamilton was a disaster. One day she will struggled him with bare hands. Without hesitation.

"It's not I am not happy for them, you know, miss Schuyler." The man hesitated a bit before whispering quietly, "They are wonderful, and I have no intention to—"

She waved her hand carelessly in the air, "I know, I know, sir." She smiled at him and then turned her eyes to her feet, they are still sore from the dance (she danced alone, because she knew Hamilton didn't know how to dance because

 _Dancing alone tonight was maybe satisfying enough for her._ )

"I totally get it."

There was silence lingered in the air, and Angelica finally can breathe for the first time of the week. The planning of the wedding was stressing, and the sitting was long to place and Alexander Hamilton's smile was the cruelest thing she had do endure in her whole life.

The man laughed a bit nervously and rubbed the back of his head and held a hand, "John Laurens, you are miss Angelica Schuyler, I knew."

"Of course you knew," she snapped, "you yelled my name in front of the crowd."

"I apologize, miss." He kissed her hand, and Angelica stood up, took his hand before he had the time to recover from the shock of being dragged on the ground. He looked around him, at his feet, as if he can't believe he can still stood.

"I would accept a dance as an apology, mister Laurens." She looked at him in the eye, determined and proud, yet they both knew who they want to dance with tonight.

"Of course, I gladly accept the offer, miss Schuyler."

Would you please  
Please  
Have

Hamilton was smiling at Eliza and Eliza was smiling back.

Laurens and Angelica were dancing round and round on the ballroom, they were smiling, because they knew this would be enough, because they knew smile like Alexander Hamilton, nobody talk like Alexander Hamilton, _nobody was Alexander Hamilton._

Please  
Have a dance with me

 _Alexander_.

 

 

  
But this was more already more than enough.

"Maybe I am the captain though, miss Schuyler." 


End file.
